Love in the New World
by Steampunk Kimono
Summary: Light has won. He is the God of the New World and keeps L as his prisoner to flaunt to his supporters. The detective has spent the last three months rotting away in a cell, waiting for Kira to kill him. But what happens when Light grows to love his captive?
1. Chapter 1

He was waiting. Waiting for the crisp sound of polished shoes striding down the hall with a purpose. Waiting for Kira. The God of the New World.

L had grown accustomed to the echo that resounded through the prison corridor whenever Light had decided to pay him a visit. He had made sure to memorize the weight of each step, the pause between strides, and catalog the information into the extensive labyrinth of his mind. The time in between Kira's visits was filled with what you might identify as anticipation, as it gnawed at the very core of his being, and made him wonder what awaited him the next time Light entered his miserable, dark cell. However, anticipation was not to be confused with longing, for in fact, it was the opposite, a fear, a dread, that settled in the pit of his stomach that grew with the length of Light's absence from his lowly prison. As days turned into weeks that Kira had not returned to L, the despair continued to claw at the back of his mind and cloud his good judgment.

Harsh, artificial white light shone down upon the detective, illuminating him in his piteous cell. The walls were 6 mere slabs of thick concrete leant up against each other, creating a small 10x12 room with an iron mesh door. It was nearly stark bare, with only an uncomfortable metal bed in one corner, a stained and cracked toilet in the other, and 8 video cameras peering in on L, watching and listening to his every movement and word. The only company that the thin man kept was his thoughts.

L had been living in these conditions for 3 months now.

He was lying on his poor excuse for a bed when he heard the noise. That clean, decisive clack of expensive shoes on the tile floors. _Light_. L instinctively curled into himself as the fear paralyzed his fragile body and forced him into silence. He couldn't move, couldn't speak, couldn't breathe, as the footsteps hit the ground in their regular intervals, gradually growing louder as they approached. L had been waiting for over two weeks for Light to return to him, carefully planning how he would act, how he would respond to his harsh actions, and now that the time had finally come, L felt completely unprepared. It was to be expected though, how was he to remain calm when he was aware of being entirely vulnerable and dominated by someone who could kill him in the most painful way without a moment's notice?

L tried to suppress the violent shudder that racked his body as his captor opened the cell's door, his body casting a dark shadow amidst the glowing light. Any sign of weakness would only encourage Light more and make what was about to come all the more painful. Although his back was to the other, L knew that Light was smirking at the sight of his deathly thin body curled into the fetal position, shaking nervously. When Light parted his lips to speak, his words flowed smoothly and curtly out of his mouth with a practiced ease. "And how is my favorite prisoner faring today, Lawliet?"

L had tried desperately to quell his shaking, but the movements only escalated when he heard Light use his given name so sarcastically. It only reminded him of his severe weakness and lack of control of the dangerous position he was in. L knew that he should respond quickly, but found that it was futile. The tremor that would come out with his words would only provoke Light to be more aggressive with him. L knew exactly how it would work. Light's hunger to demonstrate his power and domination over the once-famous detective would grow until he couldn't hold it in any longer.

After a few breaths, L steadied his voice enough to respond. He chose his words carefully, cautious not to give anything to Light that he could misinterpret as self-pity. "Hopefully as well as my favorite _criminal _has been since we last talked."

At the familiar sound of Light's footstep, L whipped himself around to see the teenager walking briskly towards him. L's eyes grew wide and filled with dread as he scrambled to the edge of his bed, as far away from the killer as he could get. This action was pointless, he realized, as moments later Light was standing inches away from him. He grabbed the collar of L's tattered shirt and yanked him to sag against his chest. He would have easily collapsed if it hadn't been for Light's grip on his shirt; L's body couldn't take the harsh treatment with how weak it had become.

L _screamed_. It was an ear-piercing shriek that reverberated through the cell and was filled with what Light could only classify as panic. He smirked and proceeded to wrap his toned arms around the starved detective and pull him flush against his body. Of course, this only caused L to squirm and thrash about even more. He sighed. His little Lawliet could be so difficult sometimes.

He gave L time to calm down and accept what was to come to him, holding his thin frame tightly in his arms. After a few minutes, the thin man gave up and stood rigidly. He expected the other to let him go now that he was cooperating, but Light made no move to release him. Instead, his captor leaned in toward him and brushed his lips against L's ear, an action that was a bit too intimate for L's liking. "You will address me as Kira and nothing else, Lawliet." He released his hold on L and gently lied him down on the cold, unmade bed. It was always like this, Light intimidating L, L throwing it right back at him, and finally L submitting to Light out of the fear of what would happen to him if he didn't.

Light chuckled softly and sat down on the edge of the bed. L met his penetrating stare, watching the other's every move. This was usually the time that Light would begin to strip his prisoner of his clothes and violently pound into him until he bled, then laugh at how pathetic he was. L sat in fear, awaiting the torture that would ultimately come to him in a few moments, before he realized that nothing had happened. Cautiously, he raised his head a bit higher and studied the other's face and body for answers, all the while keeping his own face blank and his body still. Safe.

As per usual, Light was sporting the most expensive clothing that money could buy. He wore a tan sport coat that matched the usual cut; it pinched at his shoulders, and flowed effortlessly down to his wrists. Like all of Light's jackets, this one bore an embroidered "K" on the lapel. His tailor-made trousers were the same color and fabric as that of his coat. All of the buttons of his white shirt were done up, and a light blue tie adorned his neck. And of course, the Italian leather shoes that rang out his warning signal coordinated with his outfit. All of his clothes were neatly ironed and pressed, giving off an affect that made him look pristine and untouchable.

L watched his captor for a few moments, noticing that his eyes were clear, free of the lust and hunger that usually tainted that beautiful hazelnut color. To anyone else, his calmness would be a relief, but L took everything as a warning. Everything that Kira does has an ulterior motive, and just because he hasn't hurt him yet, doesn't mean that he wouldn't. Kira's ultimate goal is to harm, to abuse, and as far as L was concerned, letting his guard down would be like writing "for sale" on his forehead. Which is why as soon as Light moved to get closer to his prisoner, L hurled himself against the wall and pressed his palms roughly against the cement, taking up a defensive stance.

L's eyes were wide with terror as he stared at Kira, who was slowly crawling toward him. His blood ran cold and his heart pounded uneasily. After a few shallow breaths, L mustered all of the courage that he hadn't already lost and poured it into a single word. "No."

He said it with confidence, a stark contrast to the begging that Light always desired from him. It was a challenge.

Light eyed him for a moment before smirking and chuckling lightly. It was evident that he was enjoying himself. "Oh? And who are you to stop me?"

Nervously, L spread his fingers against the cool cement of the wall in attempt to calm himself, an action that did not go unnoticed by his captor. After an awkward pause, L replied simply, "Who are you to do this to me?"

Light let a breathy laugh escape his lips before smoothing back his hair, where it fell perfectly back onto his forehead. He gave L a sympathetic look before answering. "It seems as though you have forgotten your place, L. As you may remember, I am Kira. Everyone in the entire world is my hostage, even though they don't know it. With the help of Misa's eyes, I could kill off our entire species one by one." Light licked his lips tentatively and continued. "But I would never do that. I am a savior to these pathetic people, I am their one true god. You're a miserable failure that lives in his own shit, and everyone knows it. I have every right in the world to do what I wish with you, and you have no right to resist me." Light finished off his speech with a smug smile on his face, amused with the way the detective's body went more and more rigid as he went on, as if they were punches thrown instead of words spoken.

L knew he was shaking, but he was too frightened to care. He noticed his captor's eyes flicker to his trembling body before returning to L's distressed face. The worst part of Light's speech was that each word that rolled off his lips was horribly _true_. It would be all too easy for Light to kill off the human race if he desired to do so. Just a few pages from the Death Note and we'd all be dead. Kira was holding the world prisoner. And L could do nothing more than pace around his dark cell. Hot tears brimmed L's tired eyes, but he didn't dare to let them fall. Light had never seen him cry, and there was no way that he would give him the satisfaction.

Light saw the change in his demeanor and the wet gleam of tears on his captive's black eyes. He felt his heart twist and a small lump grow in his throat. For some reason, pangs of guilt hit him whenever Lawliet was on the verge of crying. To distract him, he softly spoke his name. "Lawliet. I need you to listen."

The detective gulped dryly in response. Light continued, maintaining his gentle tone. "I'm not here today to hurt you." To prove his point, he shoved his hands into his pockets and leaned in toward the trembling man. "See? I came here today to tell you that you'll be leaving this cell tomorrow and relocated to a new one. I know how you like to be warned about these sorts of things, and since I haven't seen you in a while, I figured that I might as well deliver the message to you myself."

Slowly, almost lovingly, Light leant in and ran his calloused thumb tenderly underneath his prisoner's dark eyes to wipe away his tears. L shied away at first, then involuntarily found himself leaning into his captor's touch, savoring it, as it was the first action of comfort he had felt in months.

Light abruptly pulled away from L and quickly turned to leave, maintaining his ever-perfect posture. Before closing the door, he turned his head back to look at the disheveled detective and smirked. "I also wanted to tell you that I love you."

With that, he turned on his heel and walked briskly down the prison corridor, leaving a shocked L in the darkness.

* * *

It had taken L a few moments to process Light's words before he flung himself onto his bed and burst into tears. The sobs racked his body in violent waves as he wet the thin, scratchy sheets with his tears. He knew that the video cameras could catch all of his actions, but he couldn't find it in his heart to care. How could Light lie to him on such a fragile subject? His only companion, Watari, had been killed before his own eyes at the hands of Kira. It was also Kira that executed the Task Force before a crowd of cheering people, while L was chained and handcuffed and forced to watch. Numerous times the boy had hit him, kicked him, even raped him, and suddenly he had the heart to tell him that he loved him?

When he had cried himself out and his body stopped shaking, L curled up under the tangled sheets and began to think of the reasons Light would have for moving him. Possibly he meant to execute him? No, that couldn't be it. Light wouldn't make such a confession to L and then kill him. L was his prized possession, a toy, the once-great detective that he could flaunt to the world. There would be no reason in killing him. Perhaps he meant to break his spirit. He might send him to an even darker and smaller room and cut off his food supply. L wouldn't be all that surprised, actually. Light was just the kind of cruel person that would do that to him.

These thoughts in mind, L squeezed his eyes shut and fell into an uneasy slumber, preparing for the worst.

* * *

**_Tell me what you think? Send me some love~_**


	2. Chapter 2

L woke to the familiar sound of even footsteps strolling down the prison hall, followed by the echo of his captor's smooth, silky voice, returned by short grunts. The thin man made no move to get up, however, and simply stared at the heavy metal padlock with half-lidded eyes as it was unlocked by two burly, heavily-tattooed men in grey uniforms. They swung the door open and stood aside to reveal a certain 19 year old serial killer.

Of course, Light looked just as perfect as he had yesterday, and every day before. His glossy hair was sleeked back with just a few strands falling about his forehead, the ends curling along the nape of his neck tastefully. As Light raked his fingers through his hair, it fell back into place, not a strand out of order. Today, he wore a classy chocolate-colored suit, complete with a red silken tie, and those ever-present noisy shoes.

L stared at his captor with dull, vacant eyes, drinking in the sight of him. Three and a half months in a rotten cell had given him all too much time to think. And think he did. He had pondered his captor for hours, pacing aimlessly around his cell, deducing Light's next moves like the clever detective he is. By now, he could translate each of Light's mannerisms into what they could mean to him. He knew this kid like the back of his hand.

But Light's confession had thrown him for a loop. L had a strategical way of thinking. He could see all of his thoughts like a chart inside his head. He would sometimes have to factor anger or disgust into his equations to figure out how Light's mind worked. But never did he have to incorporate love. Love was full of unknown obstacles. And although the detective wasn't at all afraid of the unknown, there was one thing he knew for sure: he was positively _terrified_ of Light.

After a long, awkward silence, the teenager straightened his back and wet his lips cautiously. "You will be moved today."

L tried to say something, anything, but his words turned into rocks in his throat. What could he say to this man? He had to think quickly, he had to throw something, anything back at him to distract him. It was merely a method of survival that he had learned over three long, torturous months. Diverting his attention would prolong the time that he had before he was forced to face whatever method of torture Light and his creative imagination could invent. But that was all it was: prolonging. Even the great L couldn't stop the inevitable.

After a few moments of stumbling around his words, the frail detective managed to scrape enough strength together to respond. "I believe you informed me of that yesterday." He lowered his gaze and said to himself, "among other things."

Light smirked and slowly began to advance on his prisoner. The moment his foot collided with the cement floor, L shot up off the bed, fully awake now, and stared at him with wide frightened eyes. In a few decisive steps, the teenager had his thin body pinned against the cold wall, their lips centimeters apart. Light's eyes practically shone with determination as he brushed his lips over the other's fragile shell of an ear. "What was that, Lawliet?"

It took L a few long seconds to grasp the intimacy of his situation. He squirmed in Light's grasp, wriggling to free himself. But then, as soon as it started, it ended, and Light stepped calmly away from him. The detective quickly crossed to the other side of the room, as far away from the other as the small cell would allow him. His captor observed his actions and chuckled softly at his prisoner's adorable antics, and called the uniformed men over with a wave of his hand.

Wordlessly, L allowed himself to be shackled and led out of his "home" of three months. The moment he stepped out of the cell, artificial, filtered light swept over his eyes, exposing his pale skin to himself fully for the first time in a while. He blinked twice to adjust to the light and looked himself over. He was deathly pale and painfully thin. His clothes were soiled and smelled of dirt, sweat, blood, and semen. Suddenly, he felt very embarrassed. The once famous detective L, now a prisoner to the very criminal he had been so close to catching.

Light followed his guards out of the cell and had one of them return to lock it while the other held L's arm in a crushing grip. Light took notice and barked orders at his henchmen. "Not so hard now, can't you see how thin he is? Come on now, it's about time we got going." The guards nodded curtly and each took one of L's upper arms and began to lead him down the corridor.

Deciding to test Light, L spoke up. "Light-er, Kira? Where are we going?"

The teenager turned around to regard him and smirked. "Take a guess."

L said nothing for the remainder of the stroll down the hallway. He was too preoccupied with trying not to stumble and fall to the floor. Being fed only a few times a week for the past few months had certainly taken a toll on him. Standing and walking had become a bit of a challenge for him, and after factoring in the pounding migraine he had gained from the assault of the bright light on his eyes, all he could do was focus on was Light's back. The more he watched Light's shoulder blades swishing back and forth, the dark brown fabric stretched over his lean and muscular frame, the more he found his thoughts wander to what the killer had said to him last night. His words played over and over again in his head, as if they were a jammed record player: _I also wanted to tell you that I love you. I also wanted to tell you that I love you._

L's train of thought was interrupted when he was abruptly pulled back by the guards. The detective shook his head to clear his foggy mind and observed his surroundings. They had reached the end of the impossibly-long prison corridor and were in front of a chrome- most likely steel- door with a large, polished padlock dangling underneath a scanner built into the metal. L's heart swelled with dread, positively terrified of what sort of torture the self-proclaimed "god" might have in store for him. But at the same time, his emotions were countered with another- hope.

He had no time to consider it though, as Light turned to the scanner and pressed his right hand to the screen. A blue light flickered up and down the screen, analyzing the newcomer's handprint. After a few moments, the screen went blank, before the words "LIGHT YAGAMI - ACCEPTED" popped up and raced across the small screen. The teenager produced a key from his coat pocket and forced it into the padlock, turning it harshly.

The door swung open without resistance, and for the first time in three months, L was faced with the outside of the prison. It was a little-known fact that the only active prison in the world happened to be located in Kira's headquarters. After all, anyone who had been charged responsible of crime by Kira was killed instantaneously, or if they had committed a particularly unforgivable act, they were kept captive for a few days before public execution. There wasn't really any need for prisons anymore, and Light always tended to practice the old saying, 'keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.' If only L had discovered that sooner.

L shuddered visibly at the thought, but stayed careful to render his face unreadable. All at once, he was filled with panic as a rush of painful memories bulleted towards him, intensifying his already blinding migraine. He remembered sharing a cell with Watari- caring, loving, Watari- before he was ripped from L's grasp by muscular guards. He had never seen him again, or the rest of the Task Force.

L swallowed the whimper developing in his throat as he reluctantly allowed himself to be blindfolded and led by his upper arms into the next room. The moment he set foot through the door, he was met with a sound he knew all too well: the _clack _of smart shoes on marble floors. Only this time, they were multiplied ten-fold. He could make out the harsh, decisive steps of young interns, the dainty padding of women's high heels, and the lumbering, lazy stomps of guards. Paired with the clops of shoes were catcalls, insults, and -was that spit on his arm? Clearly, Kira's supporters and employees didn't exactly approve of L.

As the group walked through the building, the detective made sure to document the path that would most likely lead him to his demise. _Left, left, straight, staircase, right, another staircase._ He had come to the conclusion that Light was lying when he told him that he loved him, and was bluffing in order to confuse his captive. Possibly, he was trying to make L love him in return, and make it all the more painful for him when Kira finally decided to end him. Being the sadist that he was, it wouldn't be very hard for Light to trick him like that.

After what seemed like forever, the blindfold was ripped from his eyes and left to hang around his neck. L squinted at the sudden ambush of light and suddenly realized he was face to face with his captor. He sprang back, only to collide forcefully with the muscular chest of a surly guard, who plunged his hands down to L's cuffed ones, giving the shackles a harsh yank, that made L whimper in pain. The sharp metal cut into his wrists, drawing beads of rich, red blood from his pale skin. He spoke in a gruff, gravelly voice that made L gulp. "Address your God, filth." His words were followed by a tug on the cuffs, and L shot his head back up to see Light walking towards him.

The detective locked eyes with Light, nodding fervently to acknowledge his presence. The other smiled fondly, an action that L had never seen before, and softly reached down to remove the guard's calloused hands from the older man's handcuffs. L could only watch in awe as Light drew his deathly white hands to his mouth and pressed his lips softly to the inside of his wrists. He closed his eyes as his soft, pink tongue darted out to lick away the blood. L was all too aware of the immense happiness that was slowly pooling in his heart as Light brushed his lips across the injury. When he pulled away, he laced his slender, tan fingers with the detective's, giving the other's hand a soft, reassuring squeeze.

At this point, L's mind was in a whirlwind. Thoughts crashed with each other at lightning speed, combatting each other and ruling each other out. The ideas, paired with the bright light showering over him, and the blinding heat emanating from Light's body crushed his head and worsened the migraine he was suffering. But it was impossible for L to deny the love that was radiating from those mesmerizing honey eyes. Saying to someone that you love them is one thing, but for Light to act upon those three words, now that was something that L had never even considered might happen. Sure they had fucked before, but that's all it ever was: fucking. Violent, vicious sex, meant only for one sole purpose: L's humiliation, and Light's satisfaction. It was fast, rough, hungry, animalistic, anything but loving. But the soft, gentle look Light gave him through half-lidded eyes reflected only what L could classify as love.

The moment didn't last long, though. With a flick of his hand, Light dismissed the uniformed men, who clambered across the hallway, the stomping of their combat boots reverberating down the corridor. When L returned his gaze to Light, his expression was once again unreadable, devoid of all emotion. The other released his grip on his hand, in favor of addressing the door next to him, which was equipped with the same padlock and scanner as the one installed on the prison door. After the system had identified him as Light Yagami, he removed a different key from his pocket and used it to crack open the lock. When he spoke, his words rolled smoothly and curtly from his parted lips. "You have an hour to bathe, dress, and make yourself look presentable. Keep in mind that you will be watched constantly by security cameras and wiretaps that are present throughout the room. I will be back."

And with that, Light placed a gentle hand on his back and led him into the room, before closing -and locking- the door.

* * *

**Hope you guys liked this chapter! It took me forever to write. I'm really not good at writing multi-chapter fics, because I only update when I'm in the mood. But, I have hope for this story, so I'll try not to leave you for months with a cliffhanger. All favorites, follows, and reviews are greatly appreciated. They really make my day! And by the way, if you have anything you want to see in the next chapter, tell me and I just might put it in!**


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